Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Kieran
“What would you like to do today?” Stefan asked over coffee.
My mind went instantly to Karl. “To be honest, I’m feeling a little guilty. I’ve hardly spent five minutes with Karl since I got here.” He’d sent a text about an hour ago, asking if I’d like to go on a bus tour of Berlin.
Stefan put down his mug. “Tomorrow is the street fair. I was hoping to show you around it, if that’s okay.”
I beamed. “I was going to ask about that. Yes, that would be great.”
“Then spend today with Karl,” he said easily. His eyes twinkled. “You can always meet me for dinner this evening.”
“Or something else,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I could overthink them.
Stefan’s gaze held mine for a moment. “Or something else,” he echoed.
Heat stirred low in my chest, but I didn’t look away.
It wasn’t expectation, not exactly, more like… possibility. And if I were honest, I didn’t need anything more than that.
“You didn’t mind last night that I didn’t want to…” I bit my lip.
Stefan smiled. “I love that one minute you’re on your knees, but then you’re hesitant when you talk about sex. Is that a British thing?” He reached for my hand across the kitchen table. “And to answer your question, I didn’t mind at all. How could I, when I got to sleep with you in my arms?”
Waking up with Stefan had already been added to my list of favourite things.
Go away, Julie Andrews. I don’t need you in my head.
“The only thing I thought about doing today was taking you to KaDeWe, and maybe showing you a few places of interest.” He paused, and I got the feeling there was something on his mind.
Then I remembered Dieter’s words.
“Is this the right time for me to ask what’s going on tomorrow night?”
He let go of my hand and finished his coffee.
Okay, I was intrigued.
“A friend of mine is having a party tomorrow night, except it’s more of a…private event.”
I stared at him. “What kind of event?”
Stefan looked me in the eye. “A sex party.”
“Oh.” Heat raced through me.
“I told him I was showing you around Berlin. And now you’re invited too.”
Oh my God.
“You don’t have to come,” he added. “This isn’t something you ease into by accident.”
I cleared my throat. “You’re going to this party?” I was so proud my voice didn’t shake.
“Yes.” His tone wasn’t apologetic or defensive.
“Do you want me to come with you?” My heartbeat quickened.
Stefan tilted his head. “I want you to come if you want to be there.”
That mattered more than anything else he could have said.
I took a moment to breathe. “I do.” The words took me by surprise. I hadn’t expected to say them so easily.
Stefan studied me for a moment. “Then we talk first. I want you to know what to expect.”
I blinked. “It’s a sex party. Isn’t that sort of self-explanatory?”
He chuckled. “Fair point. But I’m not talking about what you’ll see, more about what you’ll want to do there. So let’s narrow it down.” He leaned forward, not closing the distance, but simply focusing on me. “Are you comfortable to be in a space where guys are fucking?”
“Yes. I think so.” I let out a raw laugh. “How do I know? I’ve never done this. But it’s something I want to experience, and who knows when I’ll get another invitation.”
“So you’d be okay watching them?”
“Yes.”
“What about doing more than watch? Because if you’re going there simply as a voyeur, I’d have to ask Rolf first.”
I let out a breath. “I didn’t realise it worked like that.”
“It works however the people involved agree it works. That’s the point.” He paused. “No one is there to entertain anyone else. And no one is entitled to your time.” That focus was back. “So…”
I swallowed. “I want to do more than watch.”
Stefan’s focused gaze sent a tingle through me. “And if I wanted to bend you over and fuck you in front of however many guys are there, you’d be okay with that? With being seen?” His hand stroked mine. “Nailing it down before we get there is important.”
I nodded, although my heart was pounding. “I… I’d be okay with that.” Then my sense of humour came to the rescue. “But can I just say… nailing? Did you have to use that word?”
His wry smile eased my racing mind.
“Okay. We’ve established you’d be okay with me touching you.” That familiar head tilt was back. “And what if someone else wants to touch you?”
Oh dear God.
Before I could get my throat relaxed enough to answer, he said, “If you come with me, you arrive on my arm.”
That got my full attention. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re with me,” he said with a shrug. “Anyone who wants your attention asks me first.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“And you just… decide?”
He shook his head. “I decide based on you, not them. If I don’t see that you’re comfortable, the answer is no.”
I liked that. “And if I don’t want to do anything with anyone else—just you?”
“Then you don’t.”
I took a deep breath. “What if someone asks me directly?”
“There’s an art to saying no without sounding like an asshole,” Stefan said with a smile. “But it’s still no.”
A shudder ran through me. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable doing something with anyone else.”
Stefan nodded. “Then that’s your boundary, your limit.”
I breathed a little easier.
“You might feel differently once you get there, or then again, you might not. Either is fine.” He squeezed my hand. “But you decide it, not the situation.”
“And if I’m uncomfortable?” I asked.
“Then we leave.” His tone was firm and clear.
“You won’t mind?”
“No.” There wasn’t even a second’s delay.
I studied him for a moment. “You’ve done this before.”
“Yes. That’s why I know it’s important to talk it through first.” His gaze locked onto mine. “So you feel safe.”
Another calming breath. “Okay.”
He took a breath too, and I realised this really was important to him.
“It’s not just going to be wall-to-wall sex. There will be other things going on—kink-related things.”
I bit my lip. “I think getting fucked in front of other people and being fine with that counts as a kink, don’t you?”
He beamed. “Good boy. You learn fast.”
His praise felt warm and comfortable.
“What kind of other things?”
“Slings, paddles, toys…” That searching gaze locked onto me. “You don’t have to do any of that—unless you want to.” He cocked his head. “Still want to go?”
I hesitated. “I do have one question.”
“Fire away.”
I swallowed. “What about you? Will you want to… have sex with other men? Or… do things with them?” Because I didn’t know how I’d feel about that.
Okay, that was a lie. I didn’t think I’d like it.
Stefan regarded me steadily. “Not if that makes you uncomfortable. And if that’s another limit, I’m totally okay with that.”
Breathing became less of a chore. “Then yes, I still want to go.”
Stefan held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. “Good.”
There it was again, that word. Except now it didn’t feel approval, but alignment.
Now all I had to do was not chicken out.
Karl was at the piano when I let myself in.
The sound drifted through the apartment, the kind of playing that filled a space without demanding attention. I paused in the doorway for a moment, listening.
Then he stopped and gave me a warm smile. “How was the concert?”
“Amazing. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I didn’t come here with the intention of treating your home like a hotel.”
He waved a hand. “I don’t mind in the least. You’ve had a lot on your mind.” He studied me over the top of his glasses. “In fact, you have the look of a man who has been thinking too much.” He paused. “Or not enough.”
I set my bag down, shrugging out of my jacket. “I’m beginning to think everyone can read my mind. Or else I can’t hide a thing.”
He patted the piano bench. “Sit.” When I did as I was told, he added, “Shoes off. You’ll ruin my pedals.”
I huffed out a quiet laugh. “Good morning to you too.” The worn wood of the piano bench creaked under our combined weight. “What are we playing?”
Karl glanced at me sideways. “Something you won’t overthink.”
I snorted. “That rules out half my repertoire.”
He reached for a score, placing it on the stand. I smiled when I saw what he’d chosen. “Ravel’s Mother Goose Suite. We played that when I was a student.”
He smiled. “I know.”
We placed our hands on the keys, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
Then Karl began, his playing soft and measured.
The opening unfolded without effort, the notes settling into the room as if they had always belonged there.
I followed a breath later, easing into the harmony, letting his phrasing guide mine.
The music moved between us, gentle but precise, each phrase requiring attention, awareness, restraint.
Our hands crossed once, briefly, and I adjusted without thinking, the movement instinctive.
The final notes faded, leaving the room quieter than before. Karl lifted his hands from the keys, but didn’t move away. Neither did I.
“Well,” he said after a moment.
“Well what?”
“Are you seeing Stefan again tonight?”
“Yes.”
He moved his hands over the keys, and Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata filled the air. “What’s going on?” he said as he played. “And don’t tell me nothing, because I can read you, Kieran Walsh.”
“How can you do two things at once?” I demanded. “Men can’t multitask. It’s a fact of nature.”
He chuckled. “You’re avoiding the question.”
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “Stefan’s been invited to a private party.”
Karl’s expression didn’t change. “And you’re considering going with him.”
“Yes.”
There was still no reaction, which made it easier to continue.
“I want to go,” I said. “I said I would. But now I don’t know if that’s—” I stopped.
Karl tilted his head. “—wise?” he suggested.
“Yes.”
He considered that. “Tell me why you want to go.”
The question was simple, not loaded.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Curiosity, I suppose. Wanting to understand it. To… see what it’s about. Maybe even… experience it.”
Karl nodded. “That seems reasonable.”
I let out a breath. “But?”